


I've Got You

by SLong1118



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLong1118/pseuds/SLong1118
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As I watched my strong, steadfast detective crumble in front of my eyes, I realize that this was what it felt like to experience complete heartache."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got You

My Detective. My strong, hardworking, sometimes ornery Detective. Different from Jane. My loveable, big hearted, sensitive Jane.  
Detective was who she was at work, when all eyes were on us to finish a case, when we were supposed to be working together to catch bad guys. Jane was when she came home to me at odd hours after the job to shower and curl up in my arms for a movie when she had the energy, or for sleep when she didn't.  
This is the life we led. Two professionals who managed to use our personal relationship to help us communicate on the job, but who tried to keep home at home and work at work. We had become pretty good at it, too. We learned when to be Jane and Maura, and when to be Doctor and Detective.  
But sometimes, those lines get very blurry. In this case, very much so. Cases with children are always the hardest on all of us. But my Detective seems take them just a little bit harder than most. That big heart of hers just can't stand it when young ones are involved, and I really can't blame her for that. It's always a shame to see someone so young on my table.  
She tries to hide it, and fails. I see the pain, that most people don't, well up behind her eyes. She feels no need to pretend around me. I smile in sympathy and long for when we can retreat home so I can bring the trouble off of my girlfriend's shoulders. But there are many hours left to work, and many questions left unanswered. So we, the detectives and I, work tirelessly to put all of the missing pieces together.  
After one of the longest shifts I've probably ever experienced in my time at Boston Pd, both literally and metaphorically, my Detective finally manages to fill in the blanks, and the good guys win again. I smile with pride and relief when she strolls into my morgue to inform me that the man made a full confession and that the case was closed.  
I congratulate her on her victory, but still seeing that the sadness from the case had not disappeared from her eyes, I placed my hand on her arm as a signal that she could now relax. But she shakes her head and frowns. She has to talk to the family, still. That's the worst part.  
"Do you want me to go with you?"  
"No. This is something I need to do on my own. Will you wait for me?"  
"Always."  
She smiles slightly at this, as close to a real smile as I've seen throughout this whole case. She kisses my cheek, and exits my morgue to inform the family that they could finally bury their child.  
I am interrupted from paperwork about half an hour later by a very weary looking Detective.  
"Sweetheart..." I say gently.  
She looks up at me, eyes full of emotion, and immediately looks away. I rise from my desk to approach her. I gently place my hand on her arm for support and hear her gently whisper, "Can we just go home, now?"  
"Of course. Let me lock up."  
She nods gently, not looking up from her spot in the center of my office.  
"Come on," I utter softly, and she places her hand in my elbow and it remains there as we exit the bullpen.  
The ride home we silent, both of us knowing that home was where we would try to heal my Detective's heart.  
I gently patted Joe's excited head upon entering as I felt more than heard my partner shuffle passed me to sit heavily on the couch. I follow gently behind after feeding and watering our pets, and ask, "Do you want me to get you anything? Water, beer, food, anything?"  
She shakes her head, looks up at me with the saddest eyes I think I've ever seen, and says almost too quietly for me to hear, "Can you just sit with me for a bit?"  
I nod and she motions for me to sit in her lap, which I do. She immediately enraptures me into her arms and holds me with all of her might, and I return her eager embrace with just as much strength. When she starts to shake in my arms, I start gently stroking her hair and back with my hands, and being offering her soft words of, "It's okay," "I've got you," and, "I love you," over and over again.  
As I watch my strong, steadfast detective crumble in front of my eyes, I realize that this was what it felt like to experience complete heartache. I also realized that this was the biggest difference between Detective Rizzoli and Jane. Detective Rizzoli would never in a million years let someone see her this vulnerable, let alone let them hold her and sooth her as if she were a child. Every time something like this happens, I realize just how much she trusts me with this side of herself, and I am always completely humbled by the fact that I am the ONLY person who ever gets the opportunity to be in love with her and be loved by her in return.  
As her sobs subside, she nuzzles her nose into my neck as her death grip on my back softens. I kiss the side of her head gently, still softly stroking her back and neck in a soothing manner. She needs me to be strong for her right now, so I am.  
"I love you," she whispers in my neck.  
I smile gently, once again kissing her temple, and replying with, "I love you back."  
I feel her breathe deeply as if she's been holding her breath for a while, and she exhales in much the same manner.  
"Feel better?" I ask her in a hushed tone. I felt her nod against me and reply, "A little, yeah."  
"Good. You should probably eat, ya know?" She nods against me again.  
"I know. But honestly, I just want you to take me to bed," she says with a kiss to my neck. I nod, knowing exactly how she feels and what she needs from me. I gently extricate myself from her grip and hold out my hand to help her up, which she takes without argument. She interlaces our fingers and lets me guide her down the hall to our bedroom.  
When we get there, she lets me delicately undress her, but stops me when I try to leave to get her pajamas, saying, "I really don't feel like wearing clothes right now." I nod, guide her to the bed, pull the covers down, delicately place her on her side of the mattress, bring the covers up around her shoulders, and kiss her head softly before striding away to undress myself and crawling into the bed next to her in the same state of undress.  
One thing few people know about Jane is that she prefers more often than not to sleep in the nude. Another thing people don't know is that her habit of this has rubbed off on me after finding that I enjoy the feeling of our bodies intertwined so completely without the boundary of clothes.  
I tuck myself against her right side, kiss her neck, and softly begin stroking her arm with my hand almost out of habit. She sighs softly, and I sense that most of the stress from the day has melted away. But by the way her body still slightly tenses as I start to draw small circles on her left side with my finger, I know that there's something still bothering her.  
Not even five minutes later, she utters a soft, "Maura..."  
I look up at her from my spot against her side to see a look in her eyes filled with a small amount of sadness, a hint of want, and a huge amount of love. I purse my lips in acknowledgment of the silent hint she gives me, something she's gotten very good at, and reposition myself to be slightly over her.  
She stares up at me like a lost puppy who is depending on me to find its way home, and I know that in this moment, she needs to feel something other than the pain that the day has brought her. So, I kiss her with a combination of gentleness and passion that I know she needs, and she tangles her left hand in my hair to keep me exactly where she wants me. I smile into the kiss at the gesture and let my hands wander of their own accord over her upper body.  
After a while, when I begin kissing that soft spot that I know exists behind her ear, she moans softly in my ear.  
"Maur... please... I can't..." she says and I kiss her neck one more time before positioning my right leg between hers and myself on top of her thigh. I lean up to kiss her lips, she places one hand on my hips and the other one in my hair as I start gently rocking myself against her. She generates a soft counter rhythm as we stay interlocked at the lips and my hands stroke the sides of her face and neck.  
This isn't rough or carnal, it's slow and soft and it doesn't take long before the body beneath me starts to lose its rhythm.  
"Maura..." she manages to strain out.  
"Go on. I'm right behind you. Let go, baby," and she does, softly whimpering into my shoulder as I follow closely behind in a similar fashion.  
Her hands travel up my back softly, moving in slow, random motions and I lift myself to look up at her and see no trace of stress on her face. She leans up to kiss me softly and I smile.  
"Thank you," she says.  
"For what?"  
"You know what, Maura."  
"Humor me."  
She smiles brightly. "For everything: the support, the love, just... for you."  
I smile down at her. "Well, you don't have to thank me. But you're welcome just the same."  
She smiles, and I kiss her again before settling myself back against her side.  
As I feel my breathing start to even out, I use all the energy to mutter, "I love you."  
The last thing I remember before blackness was her reply of, "I love you back."


End file.
